My Brother John and His Role As a Gangstalker

My Brother John and His Role As a Gangstalker

And so my brother John Andrew Macy, younger than me by two years, sent me an email, perhaps it was his last to date, this back in 2014.  The email had one word, all capitalized, 'POLICE'.

This apparently was my brother John's answer to my impassioned emails to him, wanting desperatly to stay connected, and to understand what had happened to me from 2011, my poisoning and the death of our mother that fall, and the fraudulent death threat that resulted in my abandoning Russia in October 2013.  I had suffered what I believed was a death threat in Russia, this a fraud organized by my Russian wife and some others.  Only by 2016 did I realize this death threat had been a sham, organized simply to press my buttons, and get me on a plane to the US, where darker and equally corrupt security forces laid in wait to manipulate me into becoming a patsy, in the words of Egish Kharchatrian, "this generation's Lee Harvey Oswald'.

I had no idea that behind these evil events were not unconnected criminals, but a tightly woven CIA led plot to use our police and criminal justice system to manipulate me into becoming what we term a domestic terrorist.  Damn.

The POLICE, his email said.

I lived with brother John for some weeks after my escape from Russia in October 2013.  We spent that Thanksgiving and Christmas together, before we parted, him putting on a show of throwing me out of his small apartment in early January after I had induldged in a 4 day narcotic binge with gangstalker from New Hampshire, Amanda Kelley.

These details, which should fade in time, remain bright in my memory, for how often is it that our corrupt security services bring upon you what they can in a horrid attempt to make you, like me, a target, to make choices, which you will later likely regret?  I recall those weeks with my brother John in his small Portland, Maine apartment, with the smallest of waterviews of the Atlantic, and a spare bedroom composed of an inflatable mattress upon which I slept, and bits and pieces of his earlier forays into computers and drums.  Not a place I would recommend I must say, but beggars can't be choosers, and I was grateful to have anywhere familiar to stay after having departed Russia, my exwife and son, and three girls, all former prostitutes with whom I resided for a time, all of whom had apparently conspired against me.  What a ride.

While I stayed in Portland, ME with brother John, I had not yet the education that would, in six months time, be bequeathed to me by senior NCIS agent Doug Boyce about spycraft, tells, lies, and so much more.  In retrospect, I see my time as my brother's guest a bit differently from what I had perceived at that time.

During my visit, brother John always kept his face in his cellphone. I thought it odd, but this was certainly his right.  I didn't understand then as I do now, how difficult it must have been for him psychologically to betray me, his elder brother, this under corrupt police guidance, leading back to the worst of the worst, our fabled CIA.  And so he sat at home or out in public when we went out to eat in some local Portland, ME restaurants, he kept his face buried in his cell phone.  All in an attempt to manage his tells, as he was being duplicitous at each moment.

Sounds weird?  Perhaps unbelievable?  I feel similarly of course.  Having gone through these experiences, the hard yards, to learn that which I know and now share with you in this meager blog, I understand the reader's skepticism.  I, like, you, have been programmed by our mass media to see organizations like CIA and FBI zs the 'good guys'.  Because of my experiences, I know as you may already suspect, they are not.  Those boys lie cheat and steal simply to get a fatter paycheck, a bigger house on tbe beach, and a pension.

It makes me sick, honestly, and helps me to understand how some of those vilified by our mass media, Timothy McVeigh, Myron May, even the Unabomber, may well have been manipulated to the dark moments and choices they made by our unrelenting criminal security services.  Google Ole Dammegard YouTube for some interesting presentations on how corrupt Western security services pull off 'false flag' events.

I mean, if you see as I do, these boys pulled off 9/11, murdering in horric manner so many, all to ramp up the Western war machine yet again.  And more importantly to profit by it.  Mark my words.  If you haven't seen it already, in time, you will.  After all they were involved in manner most deniable of the murder of a sitting American president.  Bastards.  Dark hearts. And far, far worse, I suspect.  While I have little love in my heart for any politicians, I am disgusted by foul assassination plots.  Truly horrific.

The police, our FBI, our CIA, our fusion centers spread across the land, are engaged in a horrific bit of mindf***ery to further frighten and enslave the masses on behalf of their greedy elite masters.  And as I learned, I was and remain targeted.  A Scotsman, Adrian Terris, with whom I had once worked and later upon my successful return to Saint Petersburg, Russia in December of 2016, him likely MI6 in Russia, let me know in terms most uncertain how security agencies will spend decades and much treasure to accomplish their dark ends.  These ends most foul included manipulating me using psy ops and dark NLP techniques into becoming a patsy for a terror event that failed.  I have posted in this blog at length as to that matter.  Nasty, so foul.

Our world, or what we perceive of it a nasty psy op, like the YouTube video, 'A Rich Man's Lie'.  Damn.  And me, having been red pilled, so to speak, having used self as bait, figured it out.  I wondered why drugs, women, and money  had been brought into my life, and upon my escape to Western New York from Virginia Beach in the late summer of 2014 pursued by 40 FBI undercover vehicles, decided to delve further into that landscape to see who was watching, who had meticulously plotted to manipulate me and my family in manner so cruel.

I dove deep, risking a nasty cocaine habit, touching heroin, as well as synthetic cathinones.  I learned that which I now know, and pulled myself away from the grip of these psychoactive substances.  The lessons, the memories remain.  I had been targeted from birth by CIA to create, in the words of Russian Armenian, Egish Kharchatian, 'this generation's Lee Harvey Oswald'.  F***. This new understanding, this paradigm, helped me to see in a new light events from my younger years for what they were and not simply what they had then appeared to be.  My conflict with Sacred Heart high school principal Sister Nivard, the odd conversation with a Marine recruiter which resulted in my joining instead the US Navy, the selection in a reported coin toss in the Chief's mess of OS2 Jason Meadows as Sailor of the Quarter, over myself.  All these events seemingly unrelated, all connected, and the result of nefatiohs works of our corrupt CIA.  Damn.  Unbelievable?  You betcha.  For we, you and I, are programmed to think in different terms, whereas those who work in these dark places, like Russian spy Anna Chapman, who came on to me unsuccessfully in Moscow in 2008, understand far better our reality and how those in power manipulate, us, the others, in a cruel attempt to keep the game rigged in their favor.

I sometimes wonder, what it must have been like for my brother John Macy to cooperate with corrupt police so as to betray me, and to help set me up.  I don't think he was comfortable with this decision, but maybe I understand him, for what was he to do?  The corrupt police apparently used 'parallel construction', this a term from the targeted individual / gangstalking lexicon, to paint me as a character, drug addled and sex crazed, most despicable.  And given the human inclination to follow those in authority regardless of the right or wrong of it, as shown most brillianly by the Germans following their Nazi leaders, it seems to me in hindsight that my brother sending me that one word email, POLICE, was about all that he could afford me, and this to this date I heartfully appreciate. 

Thank you, John.





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